To Belong
by lyviel
Summary: Alain had been running for so long. He couldn't bring himself to believe that the Inquisition could be any different that Kirkwall. There are vague references to what happened to Alain in the Kirkwall Circle. There isn't anything explicit in this but I rated it T due to the nature of abuse he suffered.
1. Chapter 1

Alain just wanted to help people for once. He wasn't very good at fighting and it felt like he had spent the last three years just trying to stay far away from Templars and anyone else, really. So many people hated mages now he didn't think he would ever find a place he was welcome. Then he had heard about the Herald of Andraste and the great things he had done in his effort to close the rift. When the Inquisition sided with the mages he felt hope for the first time in a long time. They were doing so much good, perhaps there was something there he could do to help make the world a better place, help shape a world where mages didn't have to fear… going through what he had gone through.

So he struck out on the journey to Skyhold. He ended up encountering a group also on their way to join the Inquisition. Some of them were mages, but some of them were not and for a little while he could sit with them and listen to them talk and pretend he belonged.

The trip through the mountains was long and his threadbare cloak did little to shield him from the cold but it was worth it when they finally arrived. The sight took his breath away. Skyhold was beautiful. It was a fortress, but it was old and the stones were jagged and rough unlike the clean even rigidness of the Gallows. Yes, this place had been built to withstand war, but it was so old now it looked more like a makeshift home for the lost. He crossed the threshold full of nerves, wondering if they would be turned away after all. To his surprise his little group was welcomed. Some of them even had family and friends already there. Alain looked around rather overwhelmed by the bustle of crowds around him but froze as he saw the men in armor.

Templars.

Then he saw _him_. He wasn't wearing the Templar armor, but there could be no mistake. Knight-Captain Cullen. Alain's blood froze as the icy terror choked the breath from his lungs. He stumbled back and felt the cold press of stones at his back and suddenly he was back there, with the threats and the hands and there was never anywhere he could run. His legs gave out and he slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands. His stomach turned and he thought he would be sick if he had eaten anything and his breath was coming in sobbing gasps.

Some of the people who had been traveling with him tried to speak to him as people pressing in around him. He tried to pull away, to burrow into himself and the wall behind him as he had tried to do so many times before. A different voice rose up and silenced the others and people were backing away but it didn't matter. He knew he shouldn't have come. He didn't belong. He should have died long ago, and now he would be trapped again and he couldn't, he just_ couldn't he'd rather be dead why hadn't he died._

"Take deep breaths," someone was saying and he realized that most of the people in the area had moved on. They were alone. The man was large and intimidating, but he was talking softly and his eyes were kind and full of concern. He wasn't a Templar. He was breathing with Alain, trying to guide him. "What's your name?" the man was saying now.

"Alain," he said automatically and regretted it. The Templars probably knew his name. He was a known blood mage after all, even if he hadn't become one willingly.

The man continued to ask him questions, slowly talking him down. He still felt sick to his stomach with dread, but at least he didn't feel like it would smother him any longer.

"It's ok," the man was saying now. "You're safe here."

Alain would have laughed had he been able. "Templars," he managed.

"Oh," he said. "Let's get you out of here. Can you stand?"

His legs felt weak, but he managed to scramble to his feet. The man looked as if he wanted to reach out and help him, touch him, but thankfully didn't. He glanced around and waved to someone.

"Vivienne!" he called.

A severe and absolutely terrifying woman approached. She must have been a mage, but Alain had never seen one walk with such confidence, at least not since Hawke. The man whispered to her for a moment before turning back to him.

"This is Madame Vivienne," he explained. "She will take you to my quarters. I will be there shortly."

And Alain's heart sank. Of course. Even here, even this man who had seemed so kind. But he followed the woman anyway, automatically. Where else was he supposed to go? He didn't care anymore. He just wanted it all to end. He didn't look up until they entered the keep, away from all of the noise and the cold. There, by the fire, he saw Varric. Relief washed over him at the familiar face, but it quickly turned sour. After the hand Alain had in hurting Hawke, Varric's friend, he doubted the dwarf would want anything to do with him. He wanted to run, hide; he couldn't face him, but there was nowhere to go as usual and Varric was already looking up in his direction.

To his utter surprise Varric actually smiled at him. Vivienne didn't seem like the kind of person you stopped so he hurried after her after giving Varric a confused look. He tried to smile, he really did. Varric followed after them to his relief. They entered a door on the left and went up a stairway into a huge room with a desk, bed, and _two_ balconies. He stood there gaping as Vivienne gestured for him to sit on a couch by the stairs. Just what had he gotten himself into?

"Who…?" Alain tried to say as he sank onto the couch.

"The man you met outside was the Inquisitor, Elden Trevelyan," Vivienne said. Alain was horrified. "Wait here, darling," she continued, then added sympathetically, "You'll be safe here," before sweeping out of the room.

Varric walked up the stairs after she had left. Alain was looking at him desperately, pleadingly, but Varric just smiled gently.

"Glad you made it out alive," he said.

Before Alain could reply the Inquisitor himself entered. He smiled warmly at both of them and crossed the room where he sat on the edge of his desk.

"You really do pick up all kinds," Varric said. "Even an old friend of mine."

"You two know each other?" The Inquisitor asked.

"Yeah, we met in Kirkwall."

"Oh," the Inquisitor said gravely. "I guess that explains it. This isn't a prison. You are free to come and go as you please. There are Templars here, but they won't harm you. I will not tolerate any abuse of power or infighting. If you ever feel threatened you can come to me or one of my advisers. I will be leading a small contingency to the Hinterlands tomorrow. Why don't you stay the night and if you still want to leave in the morning I can escort you anywhere along that rout if you would like."

Alain nodded, not sure what else to do. He stared as his boots, watching the drying mud.

"Unfortunately, I really need to get back out there," The Inquisitor said. "Varric, would you mind showing him around? I think there are still unclaimed rooms above the garden."

After the Inquisitor left, he followed Varric out in a daze barely listening to anything he was saying. He kept waiting for everything to go wrong. Varric was kind enough to avoid Templars and large crowds and eventually stopped in front of a door.

"This one's empty," he said. "Make yourself at home. I've got some paperwork to take care of but I'll come get you when it is time for dinner."

Alain nodded and went inside. The room was absolutely huge. It was almost three times larger than the room he had in the Kirkwall Circle. His door also locked from the inside. He pushed the small dresser in front of it as well just in case, and then sat on the floor in the far corner, hugging his knees tightly. Now that Varric was out of the way, would it happen? Would anyone come pay him a visit? But nothing happened. No one came.

Finally he couldn't take it any longer. He had to test it, see if he really was free. He remembered Varric taking him through a library. That seemed like a nice place. Steeling himself, he put the dresser back and unlocked the door. There was no one waiting for him so he headed off.


	2. Chapter 2

Now that Alain was actually paying attention, he couldn't help but stare around at all of the books in the library. It was true that he had seen bigger, but it had felt like a lifetime ago. Now he was just so happy to be surrounded by books again. After glancing around to make sure no one was watching him, he hesitantly ran his fingers over a few spines, just feeling them as if to reassure himself that they were real.

"More important?!" The raised voice startled Alain, making him jump.

"Yes," came the calm measured reply. There was no mistaking that voice for anything but a Tranquil and Alain couldn't help but shudder. "My research is more valuable to the Inquisition at this time, therefore I need that book."

"Well!" the first man said indignantly. "I'll have you know everything I do is important."

"It will have to wait," the Tranquil said. She held out a hand.

"There you are," said a voice behind Alain causing him to flinch guiltily. It was Varric. "Are you ready for dinner?" He glanced in the direction Alain had been looking and said, "Sparkler, you gonna join us?"

"Yes, I suppose I will since I seem to have nothing to do here," the man said as he handed the book over to the Tranquil woman.

Varric led the way outside to the tavern, Alain trailing behind. He entered the tavern last and when he saw what was inside he froze in terror. A Qunari. Images of a burning city flashed in his memory and he staggered back, bumping into someone.

"Oh, excuse me," said whoever was behind him.

He practically jumped aside to let the newcomer through, his desire to get out of the way overriding his fear of the Qunari. The man behind him must have seen the fear in Alain's face because he followed his glanced and smiled.

"No need to worry about the chief," he said with a grin. "He doesn't usually bite."

Alain ended up sitting between this man, who introduced himself as Krem, and Varric. He spent most of the evening trying to hide behind Krem to avoid being seen by the huge Qunari, but overall it was rather… pleasant. No one was really paying him any attention, which was how he liked it. Everyone seemed to be having so much fun. He just sat and listened to everyone talk.

Alain couldn't remember the last time he was somewhere warm with people laughing around him. He was so used to the cold and the screaming. Even sitting around a fire with other mages or refugees hadn't been like this. A few Templars entered at one point and Elden froze in terror, sure they were coming for him, but Varric must have seen the fear in his eyes because he sat up a little straighter. The Dwarf was short, but Alain was curled in on himself so tightly that he could almost hide behind him. It didn't matter though because the Templars didn't even look around. In fact Alain was surprised to see them join a few mages in the corner. Soon Alain forgot to be afraid, forgot to watch his back, and simply watched the people around him. Someone put food in front of him and he even risked eating a little.

Varric didn't leave his side all night.

Alain wasn't sure how long they had been in the tavern. The sun had set and Alain was beginning to feel overwhelmed. The Qunari in particular was so loud. Suddenly Varric stood.

"Well, I think it's time for me to turn in," he announced. "Alain?"

Alain scrambled to his feet, worried if he wasn't quick enough he would be left behind. To his utter astonishment several of the people who had been at the table wished him a good night by name. Varric escorted him to his room again, which Alain was very grateful for. He wasn't sure he would be able to find it again, particularly in the dark.

This time he sat on the bed instead of the floor. He still pressed himself into the corner though. Before he could even think about sleeping someone knocked on the door. Had he remembered to lock it? Whoever was out there didn't try the handle. He hesitated, but when the second knock came he knew he had to open it. He reluctantly slid off of the bed and padded as quietly as possible over to the door, wondering if he should have put the dresser in front of the door again. As the door creaked open, he nearly slammed it closed again when he saw the Inquisitor on the other side. The man was huge. He wasn't exactly tall, just wide and solid and Alain felt the familiar sick cold creeping up his spine because even with magic he knew he wouldn't stand a chance against this man. Not that he could use his magic against anyone ever again.

The Inquisitor just smiled at him though. His eyes were still kind.

"Good evening," the Inquisitor said. He didn't push into Alain's room. "I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. Have you had dinner?"

"Varric took me to the tavern," Alain muttered, unable to meet his eyes.

"Oh good! I hope you had a lovely time."

Alain could only nod.

"Do you need anything else tonight?"

Alain shook his head.

"I'll leave you to it, then," he said. "Have a good night."

Alain numbly closed the door and just stood there for a long time. The Herald of Andraste had just stopped by to see how he was doing. Was this all really happening? He kept waiting for everything to go wrong but it never did. Maybe this place really was different.


	3. Chapter 3

Alain woke up early the next day. The bed was soft and comfortable, but he was used to sleeping on the hard ground and the longer he stayed inside the more the cold stone walls reminded him of the Gallows. He kept waking up expecting to find a Templar and eventually he simply gave up on trying to sleep. He didn't want to sit there, huddled in his blankets pressed against the far wall, so finally he stood, dressed, and headed down into the Great Hall. He was relieved when he didn't see the Inquisitor or any Templars, but he didn't see Varric either. Not sure what else to do, he decided to go to the tavern. Perhaps he could get something to eat before the place got too busy.

As he stepped out of the keep he caught sight of Varric and a woman he thought he would never see again. Hawke. She looked tired, but she stood tall and confident as always. She laughed at something Varric had said and Alain couldn't help but stare. Thank the Maker she at least was alive. Thank the Maker that she at least could still laugh like that. But no, she couldn't see him here. He had done so much to hurt her, he just couldn't face her. He had wished once that he could become someone who didn't need saving, that he could make her proud, but that was impossible. He would never be useful. He would always be helpless.

He ran back inside.

He hid in the garden for a time, sitting in the morning sun. He wasn't really sure where else to go. There were a few people milling about, but none of them paid any attention to him. There was also an Elf tending the plants. Alain recognized Elfroot and some other medicinal plants. Was this where they got supplies for making potions? He approached her cautiously, not really sure what he was doing. He just wanted to help with something, anything, and he hoped that his training would be useful for something.

"Can I help?" he asked, kneeling beside her, but not too close.

"Of course," she said. "We can always use more help." She handed him a bag of seeds.

He took them and began meticulously planting them as he had done so often before. The task required very little thought and Alain had always loved it, even if he had done it last in Kirkwall. It had always been a way for him to escape for a time, to be somewhere else that didn't hurt so much. He wasn't sure how much time had gone by, but he had moved on to pulling up roots when the woman brought him some water and a bowl of soup.

He sat eating and just looking around at those wandering through. Most of the people looked sad, but this place was so peaceful. He hoped it helped them. Then he caught sight of three mages watching him. They were young, probably as young as he had been when he had been transferred to Kirkwall and he recognized them. He had traveled with them for a time as they all attempted to avoid the fighting. It was good that they were still alive. He looked away, not wanting to catch their eyes, but it was too late. They smiled broadly and ran up to him. He flinched as they surrounded him.

"Alain!" said one. She looked so happy to see him and he couldn't help but stare at her in confusion. "I'm so glad you're here! How are you?"

"None of us would be here if not for you," said the boy. "I'm glad we were able to run into each other again."

"I don't—" Alain began. What were they talking about? He hadn't saved anyone.

"He taught me to make Elfroot potions!" the youngest said. She was beaming.

"He saved me from a wolf once," the boy said.

"That wasn't—" It had just been a reflex. He hadn't really done anything.

To his relief the first girl seemed to notice his discomfort. "We're just really glad you're all right. Let us know if you ever need anything."

She pulled the others away, leaving Alain rather stunned and overwhelmed, pressed up against the wall. He didn't have any time to recover however because when he looked up he saw Varric and Hawke walking towards him. He closed his eyes, unwilling to see what her expression was. His stomach turned with the familiar sick fear as he wished again that he had died long ago. Maybe she would kill him this time; he certainly deserved it.

"Hey," she said and he knew he would have to face her eventually. He couldn't run now.

He opened his eyes and looked up at her and his breath caught in his throat because she was smiling at him. She didn't look angry. She looked a little uncertain, but she was smiling. At him. He opened his mouth to ask why, but no words came.

"I'm glad you got out. This place seems pretty great, and Varric speaks highly of the Inquisitor."

She was talking to him as if they were old friends. He was suddenly grateful for the solid wall behind him because he wasn't sure he would be able to stand up without it. He barely took in anything as she and Varric told him of their involvement with the Inquisition but he did gather that they would both be around for a while. Eventually they turned to leave, but Hawke called to him over her shoulder saying that they should meet in the tavern later when they both had time and that was just too much for Alain. He ran to a semi secluded corner and collapsed, tears streaming down his face unable to hold back the sobs any longer.

...

Alain was helping in the garden again when the Inquisitor found him. Alain stood quickly, wiping as much dirt off of his hands as he could.

"Good morning," the Inquisitor said cheerily. "We will be heading out shortly. Have you decided what you would like to do?"

Alain could feel the tears welling up again. He remembered the faces of those kids, how they had looked at him. He wanted to become the person they apparently thought he was. And Hawke. She didn't hate him. He wanted more than ever to do something, to make her proud.

He said, "I'd like to stay."

He still wasn't convinced he deserved to stay, but if he could help these people even a little, he wanted to try.


	4. Chapter 4

_Authors note: Please be aware that the second paragraph does have some vague references to what happened to Alain in DA2 that some people may find disturbing so please keep that in mind!_

* * *

Alain would usually wait as long as possible to go to bed and then wake up extra early. This allowed him to spend as little time in his room as possible. While the architecture was completely different than the Gallows, in the dark sometimes he could still see his tiny cell of a room in the Circle. He often woke up, gasping, unable to breathe as the fear pressed down on his chest and tried to choke him. In those moments all he could feel was the cold stone biting into his back and he would wonder if the last few years had only been a dream, that he would never escape from the nightmare. It was easy enough for his mind to fill in the shadows of Templars looming over him.

Tonight the nightmares were particularly bad. Some things in his life he didn't think he would ever forget, and Ser Karras was involved in most of them. Alain woke up gasping and coughing from one such memory; his wrists even hurt where he remembered them being tied and his throat burned from unvoiced screams. He threw himself out of bed onto the floor, attempting to escape unseen attackers. He curled against the wall and pulled his robes tightly around him, trying to will himself out of existence as he had tried to do so many times before. He could still feel Ser Karras' breath on his ear, still hear his whispered threats, and he shuddered. It seemed like an eternity before he was able to slow his breathing to something more like normal, and it took even longer before he was confident his legs would hold his weight. All he wanted was to be out of the dark, out of this room that looked nothing like the Gallows but felt like it all the same.

His fear overwhelmed his usual anxiety, and he unlocked his door and stepped out into the darkness beyond. Everything was so quiet and devoid of its usual life. So many people complained about the noise, the construction and the bustle of so many people in one place, but Alain liked it. This odd quiet made him shudder, but it was still better than the fearful hush of the Gallows or the silence of a clear night when anyone or anything could be hiding in the shadows. He hesitated in the doorway, wondering if he was breaking a rule by being out at night. Perhaps Varric had forgotten to tell him about a curfew? He glanced back into his room, open like a mouth waiting for him, and shuddered. He closed the door quickly and headed for the Great Hall.

It was freezing and Alain's threadbare cloak did little, so he was grateful when he saw that the fire in the Great Hall was still burning cheerily. He hesitated, not sure where to go. Standing here by the fire while comfortable made him too easy to spot. He had learned early on how easy it was to see a campfire in the dark, and standing next to one just made you a target. He was probably allowed in the tavern if it was still open. Making up his mind, he turned to the huge open doors but then saw two guards standing by the exit. Alain spun around quickly, walking in the opposite direction, relieved when no one called out to him. Perhaps they hadn't seen him yet. What was he supposed to do now? Go to the library? Perhaps he could hide out there. No, he had already passed that door. He would have to risk being seen if he went back to it. The only doors he could safely access were behind him and he realized with horror that one of them belonged to the Inquisitor.

"Excuse me!"

Alain spun around, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. This was it. This was the moment everything fell apart. It was inevitable, of course. Things had been going too well. There was a woman walking towards him with a precarious stack of books and papers. She was dressed in gold and blue and he knew she must be someone important.

"Would you mind helping me with this?" she asked, gesturing towards the door with her foot since her hands were occupied.

Alain just stared at her stupidly for a moment before he registered what she was asking. He could see the guards at the end of the hall looking at him, but they turned away almost immediately. Alain finally got his limbs working and opened the door, holding it open for her.

"Thank you, please come with me a moment," she said.

Alain clasped his hands together tightly, trying to stop them from trembling as he followed her into what looked like an office. She was speaking to him, but he couldn't hear any of it. It was all he could do to stand there, head bowed, and not fall to the ground and curl into a ball from the weight in the pit of his stomach.

"Are you all right?"

The voice cut through his panicked haze and he looked up. She was holding something out to him and to his horror he realized she had asked him something.

"What? Yes fine," he said hastily, reaching out and taking it. It was a very small bag and at first he thought it contained more seeds for the garden, but it was much too heavy. When he opened it he nearly dropped it. "There must be some mistake," he said, desperately trying to give it back.

"You work in the gardens, do you not?" she said, not taking the purse. She was writing quickly on a clipboard with a candle on it and didn't even look up. "You've been here for a week now. That is your pay."

"But I don't…" Alain trailed off, not sure what to say. He dropped his eyes again, watching the play of firelight across the wooden floors. This couldn't be right, he was a mage. He had never properly owned anything in his entire life.

"You aren't in the Circle anymore. The Inquisitor has welcomed all mages as equals, not prisoners," the woman said, giving him a comforting smile. "There are merchants by the stables if you would like to peruse their wares. Otherwise there is always the tavern."

"Thank you," he said weakly. His throat felt tight and his eyes stung. How was any of this happening? He didn't deserve any of this. Was it a trick?

"Goodness, is it that late already?" the woman exclaimed suddenly. "I really should be turning in for the night."

Alain left the room with her and just stood there numbly clutching the purse as she wished him a good night. As she vanished around a corner he snapped out of it, realizing that he would be left alone with the guards again. He sprinted to his quarters and had to stop himself from slamming the door closed once he was safely inside. It wasn't wise to make too much noise since it usually drew Templars. With the door firmly locked, he huddled on his bed just staring at the purse in disbelief. He wondered if he was being set up. Perhaps someone would search his room and accuse him of stealing. With no other options he slipped the purse under the mattress and pulled the blankets up over his head. He was overwhelmed and terrified and surprised that somewhere a small part of him could still hope that things really were getting better.


	5. Chapter 5

Alain didn't sleep much that night. He was too afraid to leave his room again, though, so he just curled up tightly and waited for the sun. Even then he didn't risk getting up until he could hear life return to the halls, voices and footsteps echoing up and down the corridors. He tucked the purse carefully into his robes where no one would be able to see it and headed towards the stables.

It was still early so most of the merchants were still setting up when he arrived. Alain wandered around trying to stay out of everyone's way. He was content to view the wares from afar, worried that if he got too close the merchants would call him over. He wasn't sure what the merchants would try to talk to him about, but he was fairly certain he wasn't ready for it. He had never bought anything before. Would he need to haggle? What did that even involve? He was a bit overwhelmed by it all. There was so much for sale, but most of it was more than he could afford. There was also a lot of armor and weapons, but he hurried past these. He didn't even own a staff anymore, and he had no desire to get a new one.

He wondered if he should just go to the tavern instead. He could buy Varric and Hawke a drink in repayment for all the times they had bought him one. There was a well in the corner relatively out of the way and he self-consciously went to the far side of it, placing the majority of it between him and the crowd, and sat down on the edge. He felt lightheaded from all of the commotion around him. He folded in on himself, avoiding eye contact and trying to calm his pounding heart. He was right next to the stables now, so he simply sat and watched the horses.

"And I want to see the patrol schedule on my desk within the hour."

The voice wasn't raised, but it cut through the noise as if it had been screamed into Alain's ears. It was like ice down his spine, and it stole the breath from his lungs. He slid off of the well, burying his face in his knees and, like he had done a hundred times before, prayed that Knight-Captain Cullen wouldn't see him. This was it, then; the moment he was outed as a blood mage. What would they do with him? To his surprise the faces of Elan, the elf he helped tend the garden, and the Inquisitor and some of the mages he had met floated up in his mind, looking at him with disgust and disappointment. Of course Hawke and Varric already knew. They must have just been waiting for this to happen. It was only what he deserved, after all.

Alain leaned his forehead against the cold stone of the well. It soothed his panic but replaced it with a cold dread. An emptiness formed in the pit of his stomach and he thought he would never be whole again. He had barely survived Kirkwall; he didn't think he could go through it again. It was all just too much. He had tried to survive, to continue on and be stronger despite everything, but he just couldn't. None of it mattered. None of it would ever matter. He should just stay in this spot forever, out of sight and away from everyone. He would be doing the world a favor after all.

The longer Alain sat there, huddled against the cold stone, the less he felt truly there. It was like looking out on himself from somewhere far away. It made everything seem so unreal. He was still shaking, but the fear wasn't overwhelming him any longer. Instead, he felt completely numb and empty. He thought about trying to leave, but what was the point? Even if he wasn't immediately caught, where else was he to go? This was supposed to be it, the place he could finally be left in peace. He didn't want to run anymore.

Then he thought of those kids, the mages he had met while they had all been on the run and terrified for their lives. More than anyone, they deserved to find a safe place. If nothing else he should make sure they got the peace and safety they deserved. Hawke and Varric were here as well. They had done so much for him and mages like him. Alain couldn't leave them to fight alone again. He didn't think he could truly do any good, but he would try, even if it only meant being the first to die to give the other mages a chance to escape.

His legs felt a little more stable with that thought, so he pulled himself up. He didn't even look to see if the Knight-Captain was still there. He just left his hiding spot and returned to the gardens. He needed to be at work soon anyway.

* * *

Alain felt like he was walking through life in a haze. Nothing felt real anymore, although he supposed nothing really mattered, so it was fitting. He wasn't even sure how long it had been since he had seen Knight-Captain Cullen in the courtyard. It was Commander now, though, wasn't it? He couldn't even remember where he had heard that. It was only a matter of time before Cullen recognized him, so until then he was just…waiting. He thought about ending all of this, perhaps confronting Cullen himself and getting it over with, but he couldn't. He supposed he was just a coward after all.

He was kneeling in the garden, the soft earth in his fingers feeling like the only real thing in the world. He flinched and looked up, as he realized someone was speaking to him. He had been alone a moment ago. He hadn't even seen anyone walk up to him.

"Um, what?" he asked as he realized Varric was standing next to him, waiting for a reply.

"You doing okay?"

Yes," Alain said automatically.

Varric didn't look convinced but thankfully didn't push. "Hawke's finally back. How about the three of us grab dinner at the tavern tonight? I haven't seen you around there lately."

"Sure," he said without much thought.

"Great, we'll see you tonight then." Varric actually smiled at him, and Alain made himself smile back, although he suspected his own expression looked a little sick.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been a while since Alain had been to the tavern. As he entered, he ducked to the side to regain his equilibrium and adjust to the nearly overwhelming noise. He scanned the crowded room until he spotted Hawke and Varric sitting and laughing together by the far wall. He could see the strain in them both even from here. It was in the way they carried themselves and the shadows behind their eyes that hadn't been there the first time he had met them so so long ago. Alain had just been stumbling through his routine in a haze lately, but he realized now that that wasn't good enough. He had decided to stay here and try to make some sort of difference; even if in the end it didn't really matter, at least he could say he tried, right?

The small bag of coin was still tied to his belt hidden in his robes. He hadn't really had the energy to remove it and he hadn't exactly had anywhere to put it anyway, so he had just left it there since he had gone down to the courtyard. He took a deep breath and pulled it out as he headed for the bar. When he finally approached Hawke and Varric it was with three mugs he had paid for with his own money.

"What's this?" Hawke exclaimed as he passed her one and he could see some of the weariness fall away from her and Varric both.

"I just," he said, suddenly flustered and not sure what to say. "I get paid now and you both paid before." He trailed off awkwardly but Varric laughed, thankfully drawing Hawke's attention.

"Good on you, kid," he said, before launching back into his story.

Alain sat with them and listened in a daze. It all still felt so unreal, but in a different way, a good way. Before coming here he had been sure Hawke would never willingly look him in the eye, and yet here he was sitting with her and Varric, buying them drinks with money he had earned. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. Perhaps he could help after all.

Alain knew he had to do more. Instead of hiding in his room waiting for the dawn he started going out and simply exploring, unsure of everything except that locking himself away would help no one. Perhaps it was his half-hearted attempt to speed his inevitable discovery but he began taking more risks than he would have before, growing bolder until he could walk past guards without flinching. Eventually he discovered that the library was blessedly empty at this hour, and he immediately began going through books.

He began by simply grabbing books at random to read, no matter their content. It was odd not having anyone standing over his shoulder controlling what he chose to read or keeping a record in case his interest ventured into anything that could mark him as a threat. He honestly didn't pay much attention to the next book he would grab once finishing one. Not all of it made sense to him, but that didn't matter. The fact that he could read it was all that mattered. Maker, he had missed books so much.

Then he stumbled across a book on alchemy. He had been helping Elan raise the herbs in the garden, but he hadn't even thought to offer to help her brew the potions. It had been so long ago, but he had been rather good at it once. Perhaps he could find a recipe that could make them more potent.

What was he thinking? This was pointless. Surely there were enough people looking into this. They didn't need him. He put the book back and descended the stairs. He pushed open the door and froze as the sound of voices reached him. Three guards were gathered around the entrance, and the one with his back to him was definitely a Templar. Alain had never seen him before, but there was no mistaking the posture.

He stood there for a long moment in the shadow of the doorway, simply watching and telling himself that this was it. All he had to do was go out there and it would finally all be over—but he couldn't do it. He told himself it was because he hadn't done enough. To end things like this before he had done anything was meaningless, but he knew the truth. He was still a coward. He headed for a different door, walking softly and waiting for someone to call out to him and stop him, but the shout never came. He opened the door and headed down a dark passageway. It opened up into a large room with ominous architecture and armor and weapons he told himself were only ornamental in an effort to quell his sudden jolt of panic. He picked a door at random and it opened up into a kitchen. Movement caught his eye and his stomach dropped out from under him as he waited for the inevitable anger.

"Oh goodness! You startled me," the woman by the fire said. "I see I'm not the only one in search of a cup of tea this late at night. Care to join me?"

It was the woman he had met what felt like a lifetime ago, the one who had given him his pay. Alain simply stood there, frozen in shock, as she pulled the kettle off of the fire. When she poured him a cup he forced himself to take the seat across from her.

"I find I have trouble sleeping when I have so much to do. Can you not sleep either?"

"I was in the library," he said rather lamely.

"I see," she said pleasantly. "It's so easy to lose track of time in there. We've managed to put together quite the collection."

Alain couldn't help but stare dumbly as she continued to talk. Luckily she was perfectly capable of carrying the conversation, because he wasn't particularly able of holding up his end. He had expected to be at least questioned but instead he was sitting there listening to her discuss all of the improvements that had been made to Skyhold since the Inquisition arrived—and he was drinking tea while doing it.

"Oh, how rude of me," she said quite suddenly as she finished the last of her tea. "I don't believe we were ever properly introduced. I am Josephine."

"Alain," he said weakly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," she said, and judging by her kind smile, he thought she meant it. "Now, if you'll excuse me I should probably go finish my work and head to bed. Thank you for sharing the tea with me. Have a lovely night."

Alain sat there for a long moment before he finally stood and returned to his room. Perhaps tomorrow night he should go see if that alchemy book was still there.


End file.
